Nightingale
by booktortoise
Summary: It is 5 years after Frodo and Gandalf left Middle-earth. A new threat is growing in the North. Helped by a human girl from a ruined village, can the remnants of the Fellowship overcome this threat? And what will they find lurking amongst the ghosts of the Barrows?
1. Chapter 1

My horse was trying to run away again. Actually the words my horse may be slightly stretching the truth, but I _was_ intending to give it back. I had come out into the woods to forage for food, and as a result wanted the fastest way in and out of the woods, so I borrowed the farmer's horse.

A darkness had been coming in the north, ever since the ringbearer had passed into the Grey Havens. At least that is what I know now. Back then all I knew was that for five years I had been increasingly worried by the tales coming from Bree and further off, of a dimness over the barrows and further into Angvarr, where the witch king came from, and, as such, was trying to spend as much time out of the woods and in sight of the village as I could so that I would not be harmed.

I was looking for early berries, in the faint hope that there would be any, checking constantly over my shoulder for any sign of an animal following me, or maybe something to hunt. I'm not too bad with a slingshot and have brought down birds and things with it. There had been nothing there this whole trip and it was starting to make me twitchy.

It was about then that I heard a huge noise that sounded like a peal of thunder, and when I looked towards my village I saw the top of the pillar of smoke which was starting to rise from the top of it.

Very worried now I got on (my) the horse, and quickly headed towards the village.

Perhaps a small note of introduction while making you wait for what I will say next? My name is Philomel Hiraeth. My mother brought me and my little brother, Elspeth, up alone, which is, in a small village, very shocking indeed. We did not know who our father was, or even if it was the same man twice. We have all got used to it, however, and so we were just the Hiraeths, the girl and boy bastards of the village.

So, anyway, I was riding back to the village with the plume of smoke rising in front of me, getting thicker and taller rapidly. Incredibly quickly the smoke covered everything around me, making me gasp for air and having to get off the horse and go on foot to feel the way forward (the horse promptly ran away, irritating git).

I did not realize that I had got to my village until I fell over the now-foot-high ruins of what was once the bakery. In a panic I started calling out, for my mother, for Elsalth, my brother, Piers the baker, anyone at all until I suddenly understood that the people or things that had destroyed the village were most likely wanting to kill everyone there, not just the adults, so I ran and hid until the smoke cleared.

With the smoke finally gone I could see the damage done. Whole houses exploded outwards with the bricks having the flower's pattern of fire. Rubble everywhere. Not a wall still standing that was higher than four feet. And finally when I got to where the main square had been and where my house used to stand, I turned and threw up everything that was in my stomach. for I had found what had caused the smoke.

It was the bodies of everyone that I had ever known, twisted and mangled by the heat of the fire, blood boiled dry in their veins...my mother, Elsalth, Marigold...all of them.

I turned away and ran into the place where we buried our dead, found a shovel and started digging, hoping that I would be able to loose my memories by not thinking of anything. So I worked all that day, burying my friends and family and was still at it the next, trying to finish them all. I had finished by the third day, and had been able to work out a plan of sorts. I would go to the capital of Gondor, try to gain an audience with the King, Aragorn, and would ask him for help. It was not that bad a plan, either. I knew where I was, roughly, from looking at maps of the kingdom and all I had to do was to find the highroad, and the rest would be plain sailing.

I finally fell asleep that night, for the first time in days, but woke up constantly, screaming for my mother.

The next day I got up, ate a few dandelions and a tuber that I had roasted over the fire that I had managed to build with a few remaining sparks from the explosion. I then decided that it would be best to go and find the horse, as it no longer belonged to anyone.

That was not the best idea.

I managed to track it down within a few hours, however we then played a _really fun_ game of 'Make Philomel look like an idiot'. Deciding that it was too late to set off today, I went to look for some food in the woods, after securely tying the horse up. I also scavenged through the village for anything still intact and usable, and found some rope, spare clothes, a knife and my sling.

That night I still slept badly, but the next morning I got up in time and set off mid morning.

I jolted along quite happily for sometime, however several days of very little sleep quickly came up on me and I started to doze off. Very quickly I found that sleeping on horseback is not easy. I fell off the horse about a dozen times that first morning. I managed to make it through the rest of the day by pinching myself hard whenever I felt myself fall asleep.

At dusk I was just about starting to think about making camp and going to sleep not on a horse, when I saw a fire springing up in the distance.

Now the village that I grew up in was not that far north and west of Rivendell. I had never seen an elf, but I had always wanted to. However the events of the last few days had given me some sense of self-preservation, so I got off the horse, and made my way quietly towards the fire.

It was not elves around that fire, though. Nor humen, dwarves or any other friendly race. Instead it was a pack of goblins down from the Misty Mountains.

As quietly as I could I slipped away from the fire, however I must have made some noise for all the goblins swung round to look in my direction. Utterly ignoring any ideas of being quiet, I ran to the horse trying to untangle the mess I made of the reigns while tying him up. Having managed that I scrambled on and gave him his head. He, clever horse that he was, ran stright away from the goblins, but still in roughly the right direction that I wanted to go in.

I rode through the night, I think, as I am unsure of remembering this accurately, but I do know that by sun rise I was still on the, now walking, horse's back.

Suddenly I felt the surface that I was riding on change, from undergrowth to road. Realizing that I was on the highroad, finally, I closed my eyes and fell asleep, on the horse ( though not for long) in the middle of the highroad to Gondor.

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	2. Chapter 2

**General POV**

Aragorn was riding along the highroad to Gondor from the regions of the Shire and the Grey Havens at the head of his entourage and escort of guards. By his side rode two of his greatest friends, the elven prince, Legolas, and the dwarf Gimli. Aragorn had not seen either of them recently as the ties of office kept them busy in their respective realms. Legolas was singing an elven song, looking around him, while Gimli muttered into his beard and stared longingly at the ground passing beneath his feet. They had been talking-about the health of Aragorn and Arwen's son and the daughter that they were thinking of trying to have, about the Glimmering caves, formerly known as Helm's Deep, and the families of dwarves they now held, chipping gingerly at the walls-but they had slowly fallen silent. Suddenly Legolas stopped singing.

"I have been thinking recently," he said " about following my breathen over the sea to the west. I am one of the last of my kind to remain in Middle Earth and the pull of the Haven has been growing on me over the last years."

Aragorn and Gimli looked at each other sadly.

"My friend, we have always known that you will eventually need to go, but what is the hurry?" Aragorn asked

"No there is no hurry just yet, but as I said before the pull is growing, and I have no desire to be left behind when the last of my kind eventually leave these shores." Legolas explained.

"We do understand," Gimli said,"but if I may, may I ask a favour of you? When you are about to leave, tell us, and if it is possible, would I be permitted to come with you, my greatest friend?"

Legolas looked at him, surprised by his request. "But you would be leaving your friends and family behind. What would be worth coming with me over the sea to a land that barely any but elves have seen?"

"I understand all this, but there is actually not that much tying me here. There is no woman who I share my life with and of my family; many now dislike me for befriending an elf, or are very old, such as my father, and will not be with me any longer. And so I dislike the thought of my truest friend leaving me behind." Gimli told him.

"Loyal indeed are the race of dwarves," Aragorn laughed, but Legolas just looked at him thoughtfully and said nothing.

The three friends carried on at the company's slow pace until Aragorn grew restless and started pulling aahead, Legolas and Gimli keepin pace with him easily, into a canter, then a gallop.

"It is a pity that Gandalf and Shadowfax can not be with us, they did so like to run." Legolas called, leaning over his horse's neck and urging it faster, making Gimli jump and clutch at the saddle harder.

They were out of sight of the main party when Legolas and Aragorn reigned in sharply. In the middle of the road lay a girl, with a horse grazing at the side. The girl was quite short and slim, but also somehow wiry, dressed in boy's clothing. Some of her black hair had fallen out of the bun she had put it up in and had some small pieces of moss caught in it.

Aragorn quickly jumped off his horse and hurried to her side, checking her pulse.

"She is alive," he announced, "but by the look of her I would say she has not had enough sleep or food for some period of time. Legolas, if you would be so kind as to ride back to the company and tell them to find a healer and to be ready to receive her?"

Legolas swiftly turned his horse around and rode towards the escort that they had left behind, while Aragorn picked the girl up and carried her to the piebald horse that had been standing at the side of the road. Putting her on its' back he got on his own horse and started riding towards where the rest of the party were advancing.

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**Philomel's Pov**

Slowly I opened my eyes to the inside of a tent. I sat up quickly, nervous at where I was and who had found me. Looking around I saw no-one. There was a lot of noise and many people outside the tent, but where I was it was quiet. I was still dressed in the clothes that I had been travelling in, but the blisters I had gained from my grave digging and my days (and night) of riding had been treated and I felt well rested. I walked to the entrance and poked my head out. Immediately four people saw me. One was dressed in the typical costume of a physician, however the other three were a red-headed and bearded dwarf, a tall dark haired man and an elf with a quiver of arrows and a bow by his side. The physician reached me first and motioned me into the tent. When inside we sat down, but the other three also joined. I saw the physician stiffen in protest, but he did not ask them to leave. He asked me some routine questions-what I was doing before I was found on the roadside, who I was, where I was from, how I felt and other questions like that. The man, elf and dwarf listened intently all through my recitation of what had happened to me, with the man occasionally asking me to repeat or refine a few points. After the physician had finished the man smiled ruefully.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your village, but at least I saved you a lonely trip to Gondor," he said. "I am at least partially responsible for what happened. I have been getting reports about the North for months, but I did not think that it would penetrate this far South, and so close to Rivendell too"

The elf turned to him "The explosion that she heard, and the result of it sounds like what Saruman used to blow up the wall into Helm's Deep"

The man nodded. "I agree, but what I am concerned about is how they made it, and who and why."

I looked at the three of them in confusion. "I'm sorry, sir, but I do not understand why it was your fault that my village is ruined"

The dwarf chuckled and replied "That's because he is the king, lassie, King Aragorn Telcontar, and I am Gimli son of Gloin, and this-"

"And I am Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood," the elf continued, "Pleased to meet you, Philomel Hiraeth."

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